A Kitten With Claws
by Arianni
Summary: Entry for the Holiday Fanfiction Contest. DanteXLady Dante doesn't know what to think when he discovers Lady working at an exotic dancing club on New Year's Eve...
1. Part I

Disclaimer: All characters associated with Devil May Cry are copy righted to Capcom. Who actually reads these things anyway...

A/N

Righteo, I was about to post this, then I stumbled upon the Holiday Fanfiction Contest in the DMC forums. I changed it a bit, and here it is as an official entry. I apologise for any grammer errors, I checked it as best I could.Enjoy!

_This story is dedicated to midnightair, who saw the first draft and encouraged me to write more._

* * *

Dante gazed up at the glaring neon sign. 

'POLE KITTENS' it flashed in gold, blue, and green. He grinned. Dante had wagered a bet with himself that he could bed one of these exotic dancers by the end of the night, or at least have them swooning over him. It could be his late Christmas present. He caught his reflection in a mirror of water in the gutter. Silver hair, dreamy blue eyes, great body…what girl could resist him? Dante tossed his hair, watching it fall back into place,and stepped inside.

He was greeted with an array of sights and sounds that assaulted his senses. Shabby Christmas decorations were still strung up at odd places around the club. Booths occupied by busy couples lined the walls, while the main space of the club was taken up by three neon-lit catwalks; slim, silver poles reaching up from the ends of them. Cheap tables and chairs were dotted messily around the catwalks, filled with men young and old, brandishing beer mugs and paper money. Dante surveyed the scantily-clad women swinging off the poles.

The on the left catwalk was an exotic beauty, with long black hair and dark skin. She danced cautiously, apparently in fear of the constant hands grabbing at her ankles. Dante stepped closer. The woman in the middle was a slightly podgy blonde wearing a truckload of makeup and dancing rather crazily in a bid for attention. Dante's gaze shifted to the third catwalk where most of the men were gathered, and where most of the whistling was coming from. The dancer had short brown hair, a perfect toned body far surpassing the other two, and danced like water, her movements flowing in time with the pounding music. Dante felt his jaw drop.

"_Lady?" _he said in disbelief. It couldn't be her! _Why? _he thought. _I never imagined her to be…she seemed above it…she must just _look _like her…hey, she can really dance…_

"Hey darlin', how's about a private dance?" a particularly loud and drunken voice drawled from the side of the catwalk, snapping Dante out of his thoughts. The man was in his forties; he waved a fist of bills and actually started to clamber onto the catwalk. The Lady look-alike promptly kicked off the floor, spun around the pole, and slammed her foot into the man's face. Blood spurted from his nose as he tumbled away from the catwalk, the bills fluttering from his hand.

Before others could catch them, the dancer spun again, snatched the money neatly from the air, and stuffed it down - her red, knee-high boot. The surrounding men cheered, but looked more cautious than before. Dante's thoughts were confirmed. He had been on the receiving end of one of those kicks more than once, and what kind of pole dancer would opt of flat-soled boots instead of the usual PVC heels? Well, Dante was going to make his presence known! He smirked and slunk through the hooting crowd, keeping his eye on Lady. Dante still couldn't get over the fact of how well she moved. He arrived at the side of the catwalk and studied her more closely.

A new song began; it had a faster tempo with double-time drum patterns. Dante glanced at the blonde in the middle – she looked ready to pass out from exhaustion. He shifted his gaze back to Lady. Instead of trying to keep up with the insane speed of the music, she danced in half-time. She easily flipped upside down on the pole and held on with her arms while kicking out.

_Wait – _Dante shook his head and stared. Lady wrapped her legs around the pole and slid down until her hands hit the floor, then hand springed backwards. The crowd cheered. A wave of enlightenment washed over the half-demon. He had seen her do that move before – except she had been wearing (more) clothes and had pistols in her hands.

_Clever girl, _he thought. She was transforming and modifying elaborate combat moves into dancemoves. But just how many moves could work properly swinging from a single pole? Dante decided to find out. Swiftly, he grabbed her ankle. Without looking, Lady thrust her free foot towards his jaw in a well-aimed kick. Grinning, the devil snatched it as well and jerked her off balance. Lady gripped the pole to stop herself falling and swung round to her knees to face her attacker. Dante noted that she was wearing absolutely no makeup, but her brilliant bi-coloured eyes still leapt out at him, glaring.

"Piss off you-" she stopped mid-insult and stared. "Dante!" The half-demon winked and released her.

"Long time no kick, Lady." Lady leapt up and cart wheeled back to the pole to win back the crowd, who had booed her brief absence. She spun and dipped back precariously towards him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered before arching forward. She slid down the pole to Dante's height again.

"What does it look like? I'm here to nab me a babe," he replied, extracting a bill from his pocket and waving it alongside the others. She plucked the money from him and the other men and stowed it in her boots.

"Thanks," she mumbled to Dante. Lady curled back to the pole and danced some more, never missing a step, never seeming out of breath. Dante folded his arms and admired her. There was no doubt she was good, but – he hated to see her like this. He knew Lady well enough to know that this was a desperate scrounge for money. She would never exploit her body like this, to strip her femininity down tothe lowest common denominator. Hell, she hadn't thought twice about shooting him when he'd made the slightest suggestive comment. And now…

The up-beat song ended and the glitzy lights lining the catwalks faded. An angry roar erupted from the club;a male voice blared over the speakers:

"_Just a few minutes while our dancers change shifts. You'll have new, beautiful ladies dancing for your pleasure in just a moment!"_ The dancers strode up their catwalks, collecting their last shreds of money on the way. Dante noticed Lady's boots to be considerably bulging by the time she disappeared behind the curtain.

* * *

Lady mopped her face with a scratchy, white towel and sank into the chair of her dresser. Her tired reflection stared at her with mismatched, blue and brown eyes. She had seen Dante. 

"The devil that cried," she murmured to the mirror fringed with a tacky light boarder. She had last seen him a few years ago, when she was helping him decorate his demon hunting headquarters. She was the one that had helped him name it.

"Devil May Cry." A smile tugged at the corners of Lady's mouth as she pulled her sweat-soaked hair into a messy ponytail. Dante was a demon, but he had cried like a human when he lost his brother. And here he was at Pole Kittens, demonstrating another human male characteristic. Lady's budding smile died.

She threw a denim jacket over her satin indigo bikini and stuffed her belongings into a sports bag. Lady was contented enough to wear the (matching) indigo shorts she had on – after all, they weren't _that _short. Besides, they were one of her favourite pieces of clothing; she'd even worn them to Temen-ni-gru. And she wouldn't freeze to deathin the five minutes it took to walk to her apartment. She slung her bag over her shoulder and took one last look in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes were becoming a permanent facial feature, as was her pasty, pale skin.

_I need a new job. And sunlight, _thought Lady as she headed for the manager's office to collect her pay check. A flash of silver in the mirror caught her peripheral vision. Lady spun on her heel and sighed exasperatedly.

"You look hot with your hair up." Dante dropped into her chair and put his feet up on her dressing table.

"How did you get back here?" asked Lady, shaking her chocolate hair free to enjoy the look on the devil's face.

"I told them I was your boyfriend."(Lady made a face), "Oh yeah, you look even hotter with your hair down," replied Dante with a smirk. Giving up the hair battle, Lady put her hands on her hips. She had just been on her feet for three hours, putting up with grungy men that had nothing better to do on New Year's Eve than to oggle her, and now she had to deal with an arrogant, cocky demon.

"What do you want?" she said tiredly. Dante swung his legs off the dresser and rotated the chair to face her.

"I wanna know," he said, tossing his silvery white hair out of his eyes, "Why you're doing this crappy job. Come on, Lady, you can do better than this. Only whores with no brains work in these joints, and you don't fit either column." Lady stifled a laugh. That was the closest thing to a non-sexual compliment Dante had ever given her.

_I may as well tell him, _she thought.

"I need the money, and these 'joints' have customers that give big tips," said Lady, tapping her boots. "I'm…working my way through college." There, she'd said it. Lady waited for the torrent of sarcastic laughter and abuse to come tumbling out of Dante's mouth.

"Hey, good for you, Lady." That was all that came out. He gave her a thumbs-up. For the first time that night, Lady smiled.

"I have to go. Pay day," she said, turning.

"Come back here when you're done. I have a proposition for you," said Dante, mysteriously. Lady shrugged in agreement and exited the dressing rooms.

_I hope its not a suggestion to earn more money through prostitution, _she thought as she grasped the door handle of the manager's office. _That I will _not _do._

To be continued...

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A/N

Like it? Great, review and vote for me!

Hate it? Great, review and vote for me!

Next (and final) chapter up soon.


	2. Part II

A/N

Hey, hi, hello everybody! I am so sorry about not posting this chaptersooner; my keyboard starting being a bitch and wouldn't register my typing to the computer. When it was finally fixed, I decided to plead temporary insanity and write a ton more than I had originally planned. So yes, tis' quite late. Anyway, a big thankyou to everyone who reviewed; I never dreamed things would turn out so smoothly! Whaddya know, Jester quotes are good for something.

Enjoy the final installment of my humble fic. Random Note: I love Gunslinger Style. It rocks my socks off.>

* * *

Dante didn't know what it was. 

Pity? Most likely.

Hoping to score with her? Sure, why not.

Concern for her well being?

"Err…" he hummed aloud in thought. He cared about her; that was for sure. If he didn't, he would have let her tumble into that abyss at Temen-ni-gru years ago. Or let her break her back when she'd fallen off a ladder at his shop. Dante grinned as he recalled her look of repulsion when he'd caught her in his arms. Then she'd burst out laughing; a rare sound from her that was foreign to Dante's ears. He liked to see her happy, after all the suffering she'd been through. And right now – she didn't seem happy at all.

The dancers that had occupied the left and middle catwalks entered the dressing rooms from the bathroom, clad in more clothing. The exotic beauty was stammering something to the blonde as they sat down at mirrors opposite Dante.

"Honestly, Kirsty, I don't know what to do. They're always trying to grab me and I'm scared I'm going to trip and break my neck!" Kirsty picked up a fluffy powder puff and was about to attack her nose, when she spotted Dante's reflection in her mirror. He winked one of his cool blue eyes and flashed a cheeky grin. He hadn't forgotten his little bet with himself, and this Kirsty looked as easy as slicing a demon in two.

"Hey babe," he said. Kirsty spun in her chair, flipping her fly-away sheet of hair over her shoulder. Her eyes travelled slowly down his body, then back up to his face again.

"Hey yourself. Looking for a good time?" she murmured.

_Ugh. Hooker alert! A bit too easy, _thought Dante. "Yeah…"he replied, turning his attention to the dark-skinned dancer.

"How about it?" A pink tinge seeped into her cheeks beneath her light makeup, while Kirsty's mouth rounded into an 'O' of insult.

"I-I, uh, erm…"the poor girl stuttered while Dante grinned and leaned forward in his chair. He reasoned that although this one was timid, she would probably succumb to his advances soon enough. He simply sat there and grinned the grin he knew melted hearts.

_Plus she's way hotter than Kirsty, _he thought.Before the blubbering dancer could say any more (or any_thing_, really), a stronger, earthier voice cut in.

"Aleishia, is this guy bothering you?" Lady made a beeline for the dressers and laid a protective hand on her shoulder.

_Figures. The great Lady to the rescue. _Dante frowned. Now he'd never snag either of these dancers.

"Well, erm, he was just, uh…"Aleishia glanced up at Lady then back at Dante, chewing her lip.

"Coming on to _her _instead of me," Kirsty finished, eyeballing the half-demon. Lady sighed and stepped round in front of the two dancers.

"Let me give you some dating advice," she said. "Never date guys with silver hair. It means that they're either way too old for you - or they're Dante." With that, Lady bid Aleishia and Kirsty goodbye and grabbed Dante by the wrist.

"Come on," she muttered through gritted teeth, yanking him out of the chair. Knowing he was in for a lecture, Dante waved to the dancers as Lady dragged him out of the dressing rooms and started down a long, grey-wash corridor. Dante followed, his long strides easily keeping up with her angry, swift walk. Their footsteps echoed as they passed doors with dull stars labelling them, some hanging lopsided where the nails had come loose.

"Why do you do that?" asked Lady quietly.

"Do what?" said Dante, knowing perfectly well what she meant.

"Pick on the little ones. You nearly scared that poor girl to death; you could have just as easily 'nabbed' Kirsty," she said. Dante rolled his eyes. He was bored waiting for her; what else was he supposed to do? Use the light bulbs on the mirrors for target practice? They passed a branching corridor that looked healthier than the one they were in, and came to a rusty back door exit.

"What's with the back alley route, Lady? Feeling lonely?" Dante attempted to snake an arm around her waist, but she swatted viciously at his hand. After that, he could have sworn he saw her fingers travel to her hips, where he remembered she usually kept pistols holstered. But there were no cold gun handles to grasp tonight.

"Try that again and I'll slap more than just your hand," she sneered. What was her problem? He was joking around, and she bit his head off. Lady finally answered his original question concerning her choice of exit.

"I jump the alley walls to get to my house. It's quicker. Anyway, what's this proposition you've got?" Lady reached for the long metal bar that served as the door handle, but he touched her hand to stop her. Just as she had warned, Lady drew back her palm and smacked it across his cheek. Hard.

"What the fuck? I'm not trying anything!" cried Dante, rubbing his stinging cheek, although the pain was already beginning to fade.

"I just want to talk _inside_, so you don't freeze to death out there." He pointed to the door. Even from behind it, Dante could still hear the howling wind, and guessed that Lady could hear it too. She flushed slightly, and said in a small voice, "Oh." Dante took this as his cue and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"I have a job offer for you," he said. Already he could see the suspicion rising in her; she questioned everything he said.Lady narrowed her bi-coloured eyes.

"It's not a brothel ad you found, is it?" she asked warily.

"Ha! No, the Lady wouldn't sink to that level. You wanna work at Devil May Cry? Pay by the mission, cash only, we split it fifty-fifty. How's that sound?"

"What's the catch?" she said, tilting her head to one side. Dante smiled and shook his silver head. No matter how pure his intentions sounded, he could always count on Lady to raise suspicion. It irritated him, but mostly he got a laugh out of it.

"No catch," he replied. "Just thought you might want a job you'd actually like. But, if you're happy working here…" Dante crossed his hands behind his head and turned to leave.

"…Fine," muttered Lady, the slightest of smiles forming on her lips. He knew she couldn't resist an occupation involving blowing demons to sandy bits.

"Great," he said cheerfully, facing her again. "You're hired. Come to the shop at…ten. I like to sleep in." Lady scoffed at the late hour, then mumbled a goodbye and pushed open the door. The biting cold greeted them like a nasty smell.The blizzard wind had died down, but it continued to snow lightly. A thick white layer blanketed the ground, and when Lady stepped into it, Dante watched her boots disappear up to her knees. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and wrapped her arms around herself, beginning to slosh through the snow.

* * *

Dante turned to head for the front entrance, but stopped. His devil blood didn't permit the unpleasantries of hypothermia, but he'd bet Rebellion Lady would have a tough time getting home in that snow. His thoughts drifted back to when he was in the dressing rooms. _Concern for her well being…_

"Hey!" he called, surprising himself. Lady turned around with difficulty and stared at him. For the second time that night, Dante couldn't believe he was looking at Lady. Soft white flakes fell and drifted around her, some catching in her hair to form a crown of snow. The moon shining through a gap in the clouds cast her face in a silver glow, hiding the effects of her late nights and making her skin like china; her eyes like gems of topaz and lapis lazuli.

There was a remarkable innocence in her face that Dante had seen only once – when he had caught her hand to stop her falling to her death at Temen-ni-gru. She looked almost… child-like, if that was the right word. Then, and now, she seemed to be asking 'What? Why are you bothering with me? What is it?' She was almost unrecognisable without her mask of scorn, and, in Dante's opinion, much prettier.

"What is it, Dante?" sighed Lady. The familiar voice reminded him who she was.

"I don't want you calling in sick tomorrow cause' you're in hospital," he said, forcing himself to speak. He never realised what a beautiful and delicate young woman she could be; a far cry from the sneering mercenary he befriended years ago. Dante nearly laughed out loud at his own deep thinking. But then something disappointing happened. Lady's scorn mask restationed itself on her face, and all at once the snow angel was gone. Dante frowned inwardly.

"And what would I be in hospital for?"

"I don't know…maybe a little thing called pneumonia," he said lightly. Fate must have been on his side that night, for as the words left his mouth, Lady gave a little sneeze. Dante laughed and made his way through the snow, wondering vaguely what _he_ looked like under the moonlight. He saw a snowflake land on Lady's denim jacket and melt through it, causing her to shiver. Now that he was close enough, he could see her breath billowing in little puffs of white from her bluish lips, and she was hunched over slightly.

"Or hypothermia," he added, removing his red leather coat. He had actually bothered to throw on a black T-shirt underneath, but only because of the clubs' dress codes. He paused holding the coat out, expecting her to have the usual inner fight with herself about accepting demon's help. But to his surprise she took he bag off her shoulder and thrust her arms into the open sleeves, wrapping the long trench coat around her slim frame.

"Thanks," she said audibly.

"Wow; too tired to be mean, hunh?" teased Dante.

"Yep. I'll b-bring it b-back in-in the morning." Her teeth had begun to chatter. Dante laughed at the effect a few minutes standing in the snow could have on a human. Lady tried to tell him to 'shut up', but it came out as 'Ssh-sh-ut-t-t u-up.' The devil imitated her, doubling up and stuttering comically. Eventually, after scowling and making failed attempts at speech, Lady gave up and began to laugh with him. There was that foreign sound again! Perhaps there was a hidden chemical in the falling snow, or the infectious hype of New Year's Eve.

Whatever the cause, Dante felt a sudden rush of happiness at the sound of Lady's laugh, and a strange urge to keep her safe. This feeling became overpowering when Lady stopped laughing abruptly to heave a terrible cough. A great shudder racked her body, and Dante kicked himself for being so foolish. She was wearing shorts, a denim jacket and a leather coat. How could he think that was enough to keep her warm?

"I have to g-get home," chattered Lady, and started to trudge off through the snow. He had to warm her up some how, or she'd freeze before she reached the alley wall…

Struck with an idea, Dante grabbed Lady and pulled her close, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist. At once she tried to push away.

"W-what the hell d-do you think y-y-you're-"

"Body heat, Lady. Like I said, I don't want any excuses for skipping your first day of work." Of course, there were a few other reasons for embracing her tumbling about in Dante's mind. But the main one that shone through was that feeling of protecting her – he actually cared if she was sick, regardless of her employment. He never knew the extent of these feelings until just then where they stood in the knee-deep snow, his demon body heat seeping through Lady's clothes.

He cared about her. A lot. That much was clear, or else he would have let her go.

"Feeling better?" he said.

"Yeah," replied Lady, her voice steady yet usually husky. Dante leaned back a bit to study her face. Her teeth had stopped chattering, and colour was returning to her cheeks. Maybe it was the silver light, but Dante could have sworn she was more flushed than she should have been. The blue tint to her lips was gone, and they were returning to their natural pink. Dante eyed her lips hungrily. He had never been this close to her in years…protecting her wasn't the only thing that ran through his mind…

Before he knew what he was thinking, Dante was crushing his lips to hers. He didn't know what he was feeling when he attempted this at the library in Temen-ni-gru, and that was probably why he failed.

But he was sure as hell of it now.

Just as before, Lady struggled against him, like a wounded animal squirming in a trap. He held her gently but firmly, giving her room to move, but not to escape. He half expected her hands to come raining down in fists on his back, but instead they slipped around his neck. Her submission, or rather, permission, drove him crazy, and Dante tried to urge her into a deeper kiss. It seemed Lady had the same thought, for mouths parted, her arms circling tighter around him.

After what seemed like an eternity of heaven, Lady gently pulled back and said she had better go home andget to bed. Dante was severely tempted to make a naughty comment, but he restrained himself, not wanting to ruin the moment. She picked up her sopping wet bag, and hopped through the snow to the end of the alley, Dante's too-big coat trailing through it. He accompanied her and watched her fling her bag over the brick wall, then scale it as nimbly as a cat. Neither spoke; Lady simply smiled a goodbye and dissapeared over the wall.

Dante stood still for a moment and stared at the spot on top of the wall where Lady had just occupied. He now had a fighting partner (maybe a different kind of partner too); someone to share the attack, glory and money with. He didn't know what it was going to be like, but he knew at least for now, Lady wasn't going to be converting combat strategies to dancing at Pole Kittens. She would be using her claws for real.

* * *

A/N 

And so ends this entry for Larnya's Holiday Fanfiction Contest. I hope everyone enjoyed it, considering how far it has come,becuase the origins of this story are laughable. (Back of science book, in red pen, during a bridge building contest using straws.Told you it was funny.) Reviews would be nice.


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